I was walking on the street, alone, again.
I remembered clearly how my brother used to bring me to the theater and watch movie together, I remembered how he used to buy me whatever I want, I remembered how he used to make me smile whenever I was unhappy.
After the death of my brother, I never spoke again. I was always thinking about how unfair this world was. I hated everyone and everything for not taking my life away. Why was it my brother? Every night, I dreamt about him when I slept. Sometimes I cried in the bathroom when I was taking my shower. I couldn't forget how my brother had gone. The memories were still so vivid; it played in my head no matter how hard I struggled.
Today, the movie we were looking forward to seeing was up. It was extra hard for me to go on today. But I still wanted to watch it, imagining nothing has happened and my brother was going to be there watching the movie with me. The movie was playing on the screen; I wasn't watching it though; all I could see was the moment when my brother left me. I did not realize that I was actually in tear until I heard the loud gunshots of the movie from the theater speakers. I wasn't thinking; I ran away.
The November air was chilly, but I felt nothing. I ran as fast as I could and finally came to a halt in front of a restaurant. I was so tired, tired of everything. My parents told me to wait at the alley quietly until they came back. I was a kid; I did as I was told. They told me they were going to buy me sweets. I stood there, unable to do anything- yes, like a kid. And now, I had already waited for the sweets for ten years.
And they never came back.
It was the third day standing at the dark, narrow alley when I finally understood that I was being abandoned by my parents. All my parents had given me was a little room at the corner of this small town, a room that could only accommodate barely two people. I was exhausted and extremely hungry, eating only a few buns and two bottles of drinks given by a passer-by who was compassionate seeing this vulnerable little girl standing at the alley.
Josh, my brother Josh, was the only one I could depend on. He found me fainted at the alley and saved me. He was like my brother, a brother who really loved me. But still, he left me. No one ever covered me with blanket when I was cold; no one ever took care of me when I was sick, except him. I never knew the reasons why no one ever loved me, though.
Everyone was tired of me, I thought, because I was a burden. No?
I had been thinking about dying. Every time I thought about it, 'Stay alive, don't survive; I want you to live.' these words would be repeating in my head as if Josh was standing beside me, murmuring them into my ears. Josh loved me. He gave me whatever I want because-I finally understood today-he wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be happy because he loved me.
Thinking all the way, I walked into a public washroom now. I thought I ought to look at my own face-for the first time in these months. My hair was all sweaty from the run and my lips were having some cracks from dehydration. I put my hands in my pockets and rummaged. I have only three hundred bucks which I inherited from Josh. Josh worked as a part-timer and the salary given was the only income. These are all I had- clothes, money, and wounds; wounds at my heart.
I had to move on.
I washed my face thoroughly. I looked down and found my shoes full of mud and dirt. My hands were dirty too. There are some gunges in my nails. I decided to clean myself from head to toe in the end.
After the cleanings, I scanned myself in the mirror. My icy blue eyes looked so drained and my cheeks were like they had no muscles to move- I looked dead and awful. Maybe a smile could make a change. I faked a smile, inhaled, and walked to the exit. I exhaled, and finally took the first step of my new life.